


Breathless

by OneWingedSeraph



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Shepard suffers nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWingedSeraph/pseuds/OneWingedSeraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightmares are an unfortunate reoccurrence for Brelynn Shepard, and though Thane does his best to comfort her, there are far too many questions and uncertainties in the future to truly ease either of their minds.</p><p>Mild references to death (ie. Shepard's death at the beginning of ME2).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathless

            He woke, suddenly, to the sound of gasping and it took a split second—his hand already on the pistol on the bedside table—before his sleep-muddled mind registered what was happening. She had been dreaming.

            “Shepard,” he murmured softly, gently, reaching out and sliding his palm across her shoulder. “Siha.” His breath was a loving whisper, meant to calm her. She was trembling and he knew why.

            One of their first conversations had covered his Kepral’s Syndrome and he had apologized quickly. _“Few wish to hear the manner in which I will die.”_

            Brelynn had given him that small smile, the one he only realized later he was falling in love with, and pressed her mug to her lips. “ _If it eases your mind, I’m willing.”_

            But it was not until the night before they headed for the Omega Relay that he realized why she had been so understanding.

            _“I’ve dreamt about it so many times I can see it when I close my eyes,”_ she had admitted once and he knew without asking that she had dreamt of that night once more. Another shudder racked her slender frame and a moment later she was in his arms, her shoulders shaking, her breath stuttering against his throat. “Cold,” she breathed, her nails scraping against the scales along his shoulders.

            He hummed soothingly and slid his palms over her back, pressing his cheek to her hair, marveling at the softness even now. “You are safe, Siha.”

            “I was floating, helpless, kicking at nothing,” she rasped. “Reaching for the tear in my suit.”

            Hum deepening, he tugged her closer, nuzzling aside strands of dark hair to press his lips to her temple. “You do not have to tell me.”

            She shook her head, arms tightening around his neck, her breath breaking against his chest. “I can see the Normandy out of the corner of my eye, pieces already streaking toward the planet.” With a heaving gasp, she continued, “I already know I’m not going to make it.”

           “Siha…” A distressed burr reverberated through his chest and she trembled in response. For a moment, he wanted to simply bend down and kiss her, offer to make tea, read her favorite poetry aloud to lull her back to sleep. But he knew that was all temporary. He sighed and slid his fingers through her hair, enjoying the sensation of the softness sliding across his scales. “Tell me.”

            “People, doctors, they tell you that it isn’t your lungs, but your brain that will crave oxygen—but it wasn’t like that. My thoughts were racing a mile a minute; I remembered the attack that killed my parents, Virmire, the deaths of the Council. My whole body was on fire…but not my lungs.” She trembled, gasped, drew her nails against his crest. “Every inch felt white-hot, but they weren’t burning. They were cold, frozen. I wanted to breathe—I was gasping, _straining,_ but there was no air. There was nothing.” Another shudder went through her, a wracking sob that sent spasms through her body as she struggled to breathe evenly. “And then, I was falling.”

            He crooned softly to her, slowly rocking back and forth, murmuring a song he had sung to Kolyat on the nights his soon could not sleep. Tracing patterns along her spine, he pressed chaste kisses to her brow, his voice slowly dipping into a range she could not hear, but feel. As her breathing gradually softened and her body relaxed against his, he eased one hand over her shoulder and up to wipe away the tears that stained her cheeks. “I wish I could take the memories away.”

            Cocking his head, he leaned down to kiss her. “Why?”

            “For you,” she said against his mouth, catching her breath as he stopped an inch away. Slowly, she pulled back, her gaze falling. “Spirits, Thane, I’m terrified.”

            He knew why before he even asked. “Tell me, Siha.”

            Another gasp and she was trembling in his arms once more. “The future…” she whispered, paused, and tried again. “When your Kepral’s gets worse; I don’t want to see you hurting like that. I don’t want to think of your attacks worsening.”

            “Brelynn.” Her name was whispered against her skin, his lips tracing her cheek. “You should not concern yourself—”

            “I’ve _felt_ it.” Her words were bitter, savage, pulled from her throat as desperately as the oxygen she craved. “I understand what it’ll be like and I can’t bear…” The rest of her sentence trailed off into an incoherent whimper, her arms tightening around him once more.

           Thane had no words to comfort her. He knew what she had felt just before her death; he had experienced it several times, though not to the same end. He knew how it felt to struggle to inhale, to _fight_ for each breath, panic fluttering through every nerve ending as the world tilts to one side and his heart _throbs_ with pain and fear. The weakness, the utter _helplessness._

            “I don’t want to watch you die the same way I did,” she was saying now. “I can’t. And now, to think that I might not even get to be there for you…”

            “There is still time, Siha. They may yet find a cure.” But the words rang hollow, even to him.

            Brelynn shifted, opened her mouth to reply, when a soft chime interrupted.

            “Shepard, Admiral Anderson is on vidcom.”

            Sniffing, Brelynn pulled away, rubbing at her eyes and clearing her throat before answering, “Tell him I’ll be there in five minutes.”

            “Logging you out, Shepard.”

            He watched as she slipped her N7 hoodie over her cami and sweatpants, his heart aching for her. “Siha, allow me to accompany you to—”

            “We both knew this was coming, Thane.” She turned her gaze to him, a resigned look on her youthful face. A sigh escaped her and she took a step closer, leaning down. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

            “I will wait for you.” He tilted his head back to meet her kiss, reaching out to slide his fingers through her hair one last time. But despite the small, trembling smile he could feel pressed against his lips, he could not shake the feeling that this was a kiss good-bye.


End file.
